


Is it Really Such a Crime

by hilly_ho



Category: Superjail! (Cartoon)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cowgirl Position, Light Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hilly_ho/pseuds/hilly_ho
Summary: Pretty tame, sweet WardenxYou smut. Not much else beyond that.





	Is it Really Such a Crime

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all of the incredible people on the SJ Discord for your ridiculous enthusiasm for SJ smut, your ceaseless support, and your wonderful companionship. I especially want to thank the talented Wardzee and Finn for keeping me motivated and inspired. 
> 
> I know there's probably still some grammar/punctuation mistakes but I don't want to hear about it.

You aren’t in Superjail long before you discover that The Warden is a massive flirt. As flattering as it is you don’t have it in you to take it seriously. He can be pretty loose with his affections, particularly with the corrections officer Alice. So, you learn to pay it no mind. You tell yourself he’s just trying to be friendly and charming. And honestly, that’s a perfectly valid assessment.

Still you can’t help but feel amused as he approaches you in an amorous mood. All pretense of seriousness leeches out of his posture until his limbs almost look more like stretched rubber tubes than actual human limbs. His mouth fixes into a smirk and his gaze is heavy-lidded. You’re vaguely aware of his right arm stretching out to curve around your shoulders when suddenly you feel him pressed firmly against your side. The action is akin to the snap of a rubber band. His limbs stretch until the tension is abruptly released and his body is propelled into yours. It’s an inhuman movement and you jerk in surprise at the sudden contact.

He trails a gloved finger up your arm until he reaches your shoulder. You don’t say anything, and he repeats the motion silently. Confused and perhaps a little uncomfortable you glance at his face. He’s looking at you out of the side of his eyes. The smug bastard is just waiting for your reaction.

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously, unable to mask your small smile.

Now that you’re playing along he beams and squeezes himself closer to you. “Oh,” he purrs at your implied invitation, “I’m just admiring the view.”

Despite yourself you snort in laughter. The line is so corny, and he’s trying so hard. But, you quickly realize what he’s talking about. The weather on the volcanic island prison is anomalous. There appears to be no coherent climate. Some parts of the island snowed while others were covered in tropical forests. Nonetheless, you had felt the generally comfortable weather grow warmer. This had prompted you to begin dressing more comfortably. In this instance, comfortably signifies shorter sleeves, shorter pants, and lower necklines.

As you process his flattery you suddenly feel a little bold. You’re no longer new to Superjail. The Warden may be an authority over you but his management style is anything but strictly professional. The truth is, you’ve gotten quite comfortable with him; comfortable enough to reciprocate for once.

You steel your mind and swallow down your preemptive snickers of amusement. Coyly, you reach for the hand that was still tracing itself over your exposed skin. Putting on an affected air of disappointment you sigh, “Well, it’s nice that you’ve got something pleasant to look at.”

Gently, you grasp his hand in yours. With your other hand you tug at his purple coat sleeve. You dare not look into his face for fear that you’ll lose your composure and nerve. Your thumb traces circles over his exposed wrist demurely.

“But I think I’m ready for some new sights myself.”

You crack a smile once you’ve gotten the line out. As far as you’re concerned, it’s entirely platonic. Relentless flirt that he is, you expect The Warden to take it in stride- to find as much amusement in your attempts as you do. However, he’s gone rigid beside you.

Worried, you finally look into his face. His pale skin is flushed a brilliant red, and his eyes are owlishly staring at your hands. Immediately dropping his hand you try to stutter out an apology. At the sound of your voice he’s dragged out of his trance. He tries to say something to you as well, but loud, nervous laughter is warping his voice beyond comprehension. He is smiling but the expression is too tense to be sincere. It makes his eyes squint until his laugh lines are incredibly prominent.

“I- uh…I-I… _ha ha…_ wow, um…Bye!” he finally stammers out before literally disappearing with a bright chime and a puff of purple smoke.

You’re left feeling equally mortified and smitten. It had never occurred to you before that it was rare for someone to return The Warden’s flirtations. You had completely caught him off guard! There’s a possibility that your playful response has sullied your dynamic permanently. Still, you think to yourself before returning to your work, you wouldn’t mind getting the man flustered again. He had looked awfully cute.

Luckily for you, The Warden didn’t grow cold toward you. If anything, he became more persistent. You began flirting back quite regularly, and sometimes you even initiated. At first, The Warden’s reactions were always undignified. But, soon he grew accustomed to you until the two of you could exchange flatteries tit-for-tat.

Several weeks later you find yourself in The Warden’s hobby room. You nod along amiably as he reminds you for the millionth time that this is an immense honor and that ‘ _he doesn’t just show_ anyone _his hobby room’._ This is where he keeps all of his wacky inventions, toys, and various mechanical playthings that aren’t actively used to run the jail.

He leads- or rather pulls- you to a massive humanoid robot made vaguely in his image. Bright-eyed and beaming with pride he thrusts out his arm in a sweeping gesture and introduces this machine.

“This is my mecha-drill!” he declares with all the exuberance of a circus ringleader announcing the next act.

You appraise the giant robot with no small amount of curiosity. Naturally, where the robots hands should be are large yellow drills. It is as impractical and ridiculous as anything else in Superjail. You know you shouldn’t question it. Still, you can’t keep the low tone of patronizing incredulity out of your voice as you retort, “Oh, that’s a drill, is it? Does it work?”

Instead of responding with his usual bad temper at being directly questioned, The Warden crosses his arms over his puffed chest and smiles widely at you. “It works perfectly! I designed it, after all. It was supposed to drill for oil in the volcano, _buuut_ we never really got around to it.”

Ignoring the absurdity of oil drilling in Superjail you look at the robot again. You try to imagine that thing actually doing any drilling.

“It’s really cool,” you admit. He makes a triumphant noise in his throat. “I would have loved to see it in action.”

“Oh you really wouldn’t have,” The Warden replies rather dismissively. “You probably would have been absorbed by the mutant hive mind of severed body parts before you would have had the chance. That was before it had racing stripes, too.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, so you don’t. Sounds like just another day in Superjail to you. “You said that you designed this?” you ask instead.

The Warden’s face positively lights up. Of course, he loves nothing more than to talk about himself. Still, when he launches into a fast-paced, animated monologue about how he engineered controls for each part of the robot you realize this is different from his usual streak of narcissism. He’s genuinely thrilled to a have an audience. You understand that he probably doesn’t get to talk about this sort of thing often. Jared, for all his good intentions as Superjail’s accountant, tended to be critical of The Warden’s ideas, and Alice generally exhibited an attitude of stoic indifference to anything her boss did or said.

You find it ineffably charming. It’s rare that you get to see him delighted by something that isn’t inherently cruel, violent, or insane. Seeing that your interest hasn’t left you, he drags you around the room and presents to you his micro-technology, his dream machine, the dilapidated hull of his Jailboat, and even some of his original plans for Jailbot.

He’s holding those plans now. They are surprisingly detailed schematics and you have to lean in close to see everything well. You see a diagram indicating a nacho dispenser amidst all of the sketches of deadly weaponry. Grabbing his arm gregariously you laugh softly at the idea of Jailbot constantly carting around snack foods.

“What?” The Warden asks with a small laugh of his own. He turns his head to look into your face.

As you lock eyes your heart beats a little faster. His expression is amiable but inquiring. The smile is loose, easy, and devoid of all manic energy. An hour of ceaseless smiling and talking has left his cheeks rosy. Even from behind his round glasses you can see his eyes twinkling with unaffected joy. He’s practically glowing. Hell, he might _actually_ be glowing. You couldn’t rule out that possibility.

_Oh God_.

Your pulse begins to pound as your desire becomes more pronounced. The two of you have been friendly for a while now. Undoubtedly, you have developed an attraction in your short tenure here. Yet, you had kept your feelings guarded. The Warden is volatile. He is fickle with his affections, his morals, and with human lives. Subconsciously you had decided to keep him at arms’ length, determined not to get caught up in his whirlwind for your own safety. But now, in this moment, your reservations flee like an inmate with no survival instincts.

_Fuck it._

You grip his arm tighter and reach up to awkwardly grasp his shoulder with your other hand. Before you can psych yourself out you pull him into a kiss. He’s frozen, and you’re desperately fighting off your mortification. You try not to think about all the ways The Warden’s about to have you executed when all of the tension evaporates from his body. Nearly collapsing into you he emits a soft groan of relief and contentment. The plans thump to the floor irreverently as The Warden wraps his limp arms around you. You pull him closer. There’s no going back now.

And indeed, there was no going back.  After that kiss The Warden hauled your relationship along like an out-of-control freight train. While apprehensive at first you learned to go with the flow. There was little choice in the matter as the man groped you frequently in front of the inmates and staff and hosted countless dates of varying romantic quality but ever-increasing grandeur.

Soon a month had passed since that kiss. You wanted to treat him for once. You kept it simple. He was a major foodie so you made him a kick-ass dinner.

You’re not entirely sure how it happened. Several courses, multiple glasses of wine, and a good deal of innuendo later you find yourselves in his bedroom.

And you’re about to fuck.

Your partner is ahead of the curve. With a positively jubilant grin he’s tossed his hat with near impossible accuracy onto a hat stand across the room. He begins to undo whatever buttons on his shirt you had neglected in your hasty journey to the bedroom. Once he’s managed to pry the buttons from their ports he starts to fumble with his trousers.

He’s struggling slightly in his eagerness. ” _Ugh. Stupid…pants!_ ” he growls under his breath. With a huff he snaps his fingers. There’s a billow of purple smoke and suddenly he’s standing before you naked. Well, nearly naked. His glasses, gloves, and bowtie remain stubbornly affixed to his form.

It’s a ridiculous look, but you’ve expected nothing less. Despite his insistence on wearing formal clothes nearly everywhere at all times of the day, The Warden isn’t a modest man. In the past few weeks you’ve seen him in various stages of undress- always with his choice accessories on- but this is the first time you’ve seen him this naked.

Flourishing a hand and grinning lasciviously The Warden gestures to his body. “All of this is here for your pleasure _._ ”

You appraise his offering, sarcastically holding your chin with your thumb and forefinger. An Adonis he is not. He is an aging man with skinny limbs, a soft middle, and a visibly receding hairline. His nipples are comically large, and his smile features a gap so wide you could drive a bus through it. Still, heat rises to your face as your roaming gaze absorbs the sight before you and settles briefly on the soft, slight curve of his pale bottom. For a fleeting moment you consider pointing out any one of his unconventional traits for the easy tease. But you don’t. After all, you’re the jackass attracted to them. Your eyes give him one last look over, and you take note of his lopsided chub.

“All of that? _For me?_ ” you gasp affectedly. You’re teasing him but if only he knew just how excited you were. “That’s very generous of you.”

The Warden squeaks out a sharp giggle and retorts, “Ah, well. I have been known to be quite, uh, _magnanimous_ when the mood strikes me!”

That does it for you. You’re ready to begin. As the thin roots of arousal anchor in your gut, you feel a typically uncharacteristic desire to take control. “I accept your offer. Now get on that goddamn bed.”

His face reddens at your assertiveness yet he practically bounds onto his bed. Flopping onto his back he props his head on his pillows so that he may better observe you. He’s waiting for you to disrobe, and you’ll be damned if you’re going to make him wait. You shed your top clothing quickly and look back down on your partner. He’s biting his bottom lip and reaching for his semi-hard dick.

“No!” you cry mirthfully and rush forward to swat his hand away.

“ _No?_ ” he parrots back indignantly. “I’m getting ready!”

“Just wait,” you insist before going to remove your pants.

You slide your pants and undergarments over your hips and drop the garments to the floor. With a satisfied sigh you kick them away. The very last of your nerves dissipate as you allow yourself a breath and tousle your hair. When you turn around you catch The Warden with his hand clasped around his cock again.

“What did I say?” you demand, quickly stepping forward to intercede.

Your partner is blushing fiercely while his eyebrows knit themselves upward in clear agitation. “Do you want me to stick it in there soft?” he whines crossly. Still, he moves his hands away as you bend to reach for them. His annoyance vanishes quickly as he appraises at your naked form again. “You just look so good. How can I not?”

You can tell he means it. Charmed by his flattery you smile softly. Climbing onto the bed you position yourself so that you practically straddle him. Gently, you grab his antsy hands and kiss his wrists before pinning them at his sides.

“No touching,” you remind him firmly. But he squirms faintly under your grasp and your tone softens, “You work so hard every day to keep this jail from falling apart. Let me take care of you today.”

He hums as your offer piques his interest, and you shake away the thought that Superjail literally falls apart every other day. Releasing his hands, you lean forward to kiss at his jaw and neck. His pulse is quickening under your ministrations. Your hands crawl up his arms and across his chest. When your fingers brush over his taut nipples he gasps faintly under you.

_“Oh_ ,” you murmur into his ear smiling a cheshire grin. With fingers poised over his nipples you sit up to watch his face. His eyes are already squeezed shut in anticipation. You give his literal teats a tentative pinch and he writhes at your touch. Emboldened, you tweak them harder and smirk wolfishly. His reaction to this second squeeze is immediate. He groans and you yelp in surprise as his arms jerk to his genitals and smack your thighs in the process.

Sighing in exasperation you manage to snatch his wrists before they can find their mark. The Warden is stronger than he looks and it takes some significant effort to keep his hands pinned this time. He whines pitifully under you and looks into your eyes pleadingly.

“So impatient,” you scold him coolly. “We aren’t going to get very far if you don’t let me work.”

“I’m sorry,” he whines. His whole face is beet red.

“I know you are,” you tut automatically though you know your lover is rarely genuinely ‘sorry’ about anything. With your thumbs you stroke at his wrists soothingly. “But, I can’t have you interrupting me at every turn. I need you to let _me_ be the boss now.”

He swallows thickly and nods. His arms are still tense in your grasp but they aren’t actively struggling. You release him but doubt that he’ll be able to help himself through your teasing. An idea pops into your head, and you scan the room for something you can use.

“Aha!” you grin triumphantly as you spot the thick, soft curtain cords. You hop off of the bed to gather the binding material.

Your partner, presently clueless, shouts at your retreating form resentfully. “Hey! Who’s ruining everything now, huh? I said I was sor- What are you doing to my curtains?”

As quickly as you can you snatch the curtain cords and trot back. The Warden has propped himself up to glare at you with his best _‘I’m The Warden!’_ face. You bounce back onto the bed and dangle the plush rope in front of his snub nose.

“Give me your hands,” you demand smugly, ignoring his indignation.

Understanding dawns on him, and his agitation dissolves. He hesitates just a little too long and you feel a twinge of embarrassment and guilt. He never discloses much about his life pre-Superjail, but you know that he has a hard time conceding command over just about anything. Asking him to give you this kind of control over his body is scary, you imagine. But you had been so caught up in the moment you’d acted without thinking.

You sober up again and ball the cord in your fist. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you tell him sincerely.

He blinks a few times before presenting his wrists to you.

You shake your head, “I’m serious. I don’t want you to do something uncomfortable just because I want to.”

He rolls his eyes and jabs his arms into your face. “Just tie me up already. You want to be the boss, right? I trust you. Besides, I’m starting to go soft.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you begin to secure his hands behind his head to the headboard. It’s not an ideal setup, but it’ll do. As you finish, you look him directly in the eye. A neatly blended mix of anticipation, excitement, and nervousness would be an accurate description of his expression. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek. “Promise me you’ll let me know if that gets uncomfortable, or if you want to stop.”

“Pinky promise,” he chirps and wiggles his pinkies in his bindings.  

You laugh, only a little exasperated and utterly charmed. You link your pinky with one of his, give it a tug, and proceed to completely ravish his mouth with your own before he can try to say something smart. He receives you instantly with a satisfied hum. His teeth part and you explore his mouth. More than once you swipe your tongue across the gap in his teeth to savor the feel of it. Those same teeth graze your tongue as he marginally bites down against it. You grunt into his mouth and wrestle past his teeth to seek his own tongue. This is all familiar territory for you two. Teeth, lips, and tongue shift in practiced synchronization for a minute more. Yet, the familiarity causes you to grow swiftly bored. You want to venture into unexplored territories.

Biting his bottom lip as you pull away, you end the kiss. He starts to pant slightly as you detach completely. His arms jerk at his bindings slightly; he wants to touch you. But he can’t, so you immediately resume your attentions. Down his jaw and neck your mouth trails, leaving kisses as the silk of his bowtie presses into your face. At his clavicle you indulge in a soft nip, testing the waters. He gasps quietly and whines. The noises he makes are delicious, and you eagerly continue southward.

You’ve reached his nipples again, your target. They’re erect and completely irresistible. You take one in your fingers again and twist the nub. His reaction is less dramatic this time but he still keens and jerks his legs now that his arms are indisposed. You pinch and flick that absurd little thing until his body loosens up and he starts to melt into the mattress.

Figuring that now is as good a time as any you lean forward and run your tongue languidly over his chest until you reach the opposite nipple. With an agonizing slowness you lap at it before closing your lips around the teat. The Warden comes completely undone. A sharp, hot ache blooms between your legs as he moans high, broken, and _loud_. You groan a little despite yourself and graze your teeth against his nub. This time he cries out and his arms go tense again. He’s breathless and you feel his erection graze your thigh. You’re pretty aroused yourself, but you’re not quite ready for the show to end.

You tease his nipples a bit longer, and a little gentler. You savor how sensitive he is, and how he squirms underneath you. The muscles of his abdomen clench as your mouth acquaints itself with his chest. The feel of him, and the sound of his voice is going straight through you. An additional hard suck on his nipple earns another shrill moan, and you feel dampness between your thighs already.

Needing a moment of respite you glance up to inspect the face of your lover. The Warden meets your gaze heavy lidded and winded. A strained wheeze is all that whistles between his teeth when he opens his mouth to speak.

A wave of sentimentality crashes against your arousal. You move up and plant another kiss on his lips. His face is so flushed you can feel its heat. As you allow him this brief reprieve you feel compelled to give him affirmation. Even though you’re technically doing the work right now, you find yourself feeling quite love drunk.

“You are _exquisite,_ ” you murmur as you lightly kiss his face. “Interesting…creative… _handsome_. And those noises you’re making now? _Don’t. Fucking. Stop._ ”

After praising him you pull away, expecting some banter in return. During your foray into flirting you’ve freely given him many compliments. Nothing you’ve just said is necessarily new material. Well, apart from getting off to his moaning it’s nothing new. The Warden always accepts praise like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. So, you anticipate a haughty little comeback.

But when you look into his face, you’re unprepared for what you see. His expression, of course, is one of needful lust. In his eyes, though, there is a new depth you’ve never seen- you’ve never been allowed to see. This is uncharted territory for the both of you. He is exposed, vulnerable. Your words have seeped past the walls of his ego. He looks like a man who hasn’t heard that he’s wanted, needed, or _desirable_ in a long, _long_ time.

You don’t know how to handle this revelation. You just want a good fuck, and so does he. Thus, completely unequipped to currently process these emotions, you awkwardly announce your next move to adjust the mood.

“I’m going to suck your dick now.”

This breaks whatever spell had enraptured your partner. He looks up at you with an expression equal parts excitement and apprehension.

“ _Oh…boy,”_ he shivers as you make your way down to his hips.

You place your hands on his trembling thighs, and lightly hold his legs down as you inspect his erection. It’s no monster cock but it hardly matters. You have spent many a solitary night in your own bed fantasizing about sucking him off. Now he’s at your mercy, and your excitement returns full force.

You wrap your hand around his length and pump it once. He shudders under you and you hungrily watch the muscles in his legs twitch.

“You’re so riled up already,” you croon. “And I’ve barely even begun.”

He takes slight offense to the implications of your teasing. Squirming in his bonds he retorts proudly but shakily, “I haven’t even done anything to _you_ yet, and your fun tunnel’s left a damp spot.”

If he means to shame you for finding him so delectable he’ll be sorely disappointed. You smile coyly and rub your thumb over his head, “Oh, you’ve done plenty.”

“ _Ahh!_ ” he squeaks and you watch him strain to keep from bucking into your hand. His failing composure is stimulating you all the more. You slowly lean forward, but before you take in his cock you mutter a low, only partially facetious warning.

“Don’t cum in my mouth.”

You hear his intake of breath as he prepares to respond. But you don’t give him the chance. Your tongue is on his cock and whatever it was he wanted to say comes out in a strangled wheeze. You lap up his length with conscious care. There’s no need to move things too quickly. You’ve aware of how sensitive your man is.

With another lick, you figure that he’s well-adjusted now. You move your tongue up his shaft once more. At the head, you press with your tongue a bit harder. His thighs are trembling beneath your hands, and he moans from the head of the bed. There’s a faint creak of wood that tells you he’s stressing his bindings again. Enthralled by the jittering of his hips you swirl your tongue around his slit again.

A part of you relishes the opportunity you have. With his arms tied you can go at your own pace. You can tell he desperately wants to touch you, to impatiently force your mouth onto his member. It’s exhilarating for you, but you’re aware of how frustrating it may be for him. You pause for a moment, and allow your partner to catch his breath and voice his concerns.

You hear him swallow thickly. “It’s a good thing I’m The Warden,” he chides in a petulant rasp. “All you do is tease and dawdle. Nothing would ever get done!” You hear a muted snap from his bound hands. “Let’s go! What’s the hold up?”

Despite yourself you snort against The Warden’s erection. Here you are trying to be a considerate partner and he’s scolding you. No matter, if he wants more you won’t deny him. You plant a chaste kiss on his stiff head and loosely wrap your lips around it. Careful not to use tongue or teeth yet you sink slowly onto his shaft. You test to see how far you can accommodate his length before you start bobbing on his dick.

You feel the muscles in his lower body tremble while his upper half slumps into his pillows. He’s groaning again, the noises rumbling in his throat. The sounds marginally increase in volume and pitch as you gradually pick up the pace.

Unable to resist the urge you steal a breath and swallow his length as deep as you can go and languidly draw yourself up. Now you utilize your tongue and tighten your lips around his cock. He cries out and shudders against you. Struggling not to smile you smartly _pop_ off of his head.

“Is _that_ more your speed, Mr. Warden?” you ask huskily, trying not to drool all over your chin in the process.

He can’t answer and you know it. His breath is coming in harsh pants, and he’s turned his blushing face into his pillow as best he can. At your inquiry he opens one tightly shut eye to glare at you. Well, you suppose it’s meant to be a glare. It’s more needful than anything.

So you give him a wink and mercifully continue your work. Your mouth returns to his erection, and you allow your tongue to stroke along his cock as well. He’s nearly fully writhing under you now. And with his voice breaking as he gasps out your name, you let your hands roam. You’re in control and it’s about time you’ve treated yourself.

His enchanting clamor has worked its magic. You’re flushed with arousal and the demeanor of control you exhibited at the beginning is growing carnal. With his penis still in your mouth you spread his legs apart further. Your hands snake under his thighs and grab at the mounds of his soft ass.

The Warden squeaks in surprise and the sound is so unexpected you nearly choke on his dick. It takes a second for you to recover, but you find your rhythm again. You synchronize your ass fondling to your dick sucking. As you sink down his cock your fingers kneed the taut muscles of his butt and as you caress your tongue back up his length you gently palm the round lobes. The feel of his ass tensing through your work is about as beguiling as the actual penis in your mouth. When his thighs clench again as you sink another inch into your throat you hum in appreciation. The vibrations of your voice in your throat make your partner hiss sharply.

Engrossed in your ministrations you barely hear the weak but amused whisper waft from the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.

_“What the hell_?”

You huff a laugh from around his penis and it twitches in your mouth. You give his head a brief suckle before disengaging and giving his ass another squeeze. It’s nearly time for a break but you must indulge in one last thing.

Heart pounding in excitement you lift his hips off of the mattress with a grunt. You gaze upon his rear, the pale flesh peppered with red marks from where your fingers had dug in. Painfully aware of The Warden’s inquisitive stare, you lean forward and begin to run your tongue up one ass cheek. You savor the curve of his body and the softness of his flesh. The broad expanse of your oral appendage then runs along his testicles and back up his length for one last go. This time you graze the underside of his penis with your bottom teeth as you ascend. The organ twitches again and the jailer shrieks.

“ _Fuck!”_

Alarmed that you’ve gone too far you unceremoniously drop him back against the mattress. You sigh in relief as you realize he hasn’t come yet. But, he’s jerking his hips into the air and straining his arms as his throbbing cock aches for release. In his eyes you see the wetness of tears forming from the stimulation. You realize you aren’t much better off. Your sex is sodden and tender with desire. As tantalizing as he his bound up, your resolve wavers. You need to feel his hands on you now.

Yellow-tinted eyes lock with yours for the briefest of seconds, and your collected resolution completely shatters. Wordlessly and with shaking hands you hurriedly undo the curtain cords. The second the knots loosen his arms snake out of the trusses, and his gloved hands grip you with such a fierce intensity it’s almost startling. Even with his hands concealed in grey gloves his touch makes your skin feel hot.

Without preamble he sits up and hungrily kisses at your mouth. He bites at your lip a little too forcefully in his fervor, and now you’re the one helplessly groaning. It’s all the praise you need.

“What do you need?” you demand in an earnestness that has left you barely comprehendible.

“I need you!” he gasps with a hint of a whine. “I-I need to be in you!”

“Then I’m all fucking yours,” you growl back and you push him onto his back again.

You don’t give him much time to prepare, but it’s not like he needs it. With one hand planted on his chest you position yourself over him. You shift around on your quivering legs until you feel the head of his erection brush your opening. Biting back a hiss you move around for just a moment longer before burying him to the hilt in your snatch.

Aroused as you both are it goes in easy. Still, you have to pause considerably, panting and gasping as he impales you. The Warden groans your name and a few choice explicatives in frantic fashion as he adjusts to your tightness. His grip on your arm is vice-like. Keening he brings his other hand to his mouth to bite his knuckles. After spending most of the night servicing him, having his cock finally in you leaves you dizzy. Your core feels like it’s sparking as your neglected genitals finally get stuffed.

You both give yourselves another few moments. It does neither of you any good if he comes right now. Once his breathing has leveled out slightly, he gives you a barely perceptible nod. Now you can begin riding him.

The going is slow at first. Not that there’s any need for caution at the moment. You’re just relishing the sensations rousing within you. Much quieter than he, you still find yourself loosing soft gasps and grunts. Your thighs and core are tight with the effort of unhurriedly fucking yourself on him, and your hands are braced against his chest. The Warden’s gloved hands grip your forearms, his fingers squeezing your flesh each time you rock back to his hilt. Groans eek out past his gritted teeth as he bites his lip. His expression is taut with need; you aren’t moving fast enough.

“Relax, darling,” you say, trying to keep your voice level even as his cock fills you nicely again. “You look _so tense_. Aren’t you having fun?”

“No,” he grimaces childishly. His grip constricts against you again. It’s a blatant lie, he’s just being dramatic.

With a devilish smile you draw yourself up until only his tip remains inside of you, and you freeze. Your pussy aches for the feel of him but you steel yourself for the sake of the bit. “What exactly is the problem, Mr. Warden? Your body is _my_ pleasure, remember?”

Lip trembling with frustration and squirming The Warden hisses, “Blast it.” Despite the furious blush darkening his cheeks he manages to glare at you quite fiercely. For a moment your gut clenches as his ruthless persona emerges through the softer side you’ve been fucking all evening. On your arms, his hands shift for a better grip. And suddenly his pelvis _drives_ upwards, spearing you on his shaft. You aren’t expecting it, and you aren’t even sure how he managed it. Still, he thrusts himself so deep- so sharply- that your vision blurs and you nearly collapse against his chest. As you pant around your moan, you hear him chuckle in his throat.

“Pull yourself together, my love,” he whispers in your ear. “You look so winded. Was that not _pleasurable_ enough for you?”

You shake your head and smile weakly. The message is clear, no more teasing. Your trembling hands graze over his chest as you recover. Finding his nipples you rub them lethargically. You don’t try to stimulate them; you simply touch them because they’re him. As you mutely feel him, one of his hands trails up your arm to caress your neck.

It isn’t an apology, but it’s tender regardless. Again, you feel a rush of affection as he thumbs your jaw. It’s a fine, intimate moment until he twitches his hips, causing you to yelp.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, resetting yourself. Neck technically out of reach he holds your arm again, smiling like an idiot the whole time. Determined to wipe that satisfied grin off of his face you resume your ride. This time, though, you’ll move at a more Warden-approved pace.

It doesn’t take long for you to pick up the rhythm. Having revealed his little hip-trick, The Warden pulls no punches. His hips begin to buck in tempo with your rocking. Even though you’re the one on top he’s moving with surprising force. Pounding yourself against his cock you look into the face of your lover. Sweat beads at his forehead. His eyes are glazed over in boundless lust but his mouth is set in a hard line, front teeth protruding slightly in hard concentration. It’s you who is moaning now, even as your legs and core work industriously. His pace actually begins to overtake yours. You don’t fucking understand how. He’s the one under _you_. Regardless, each of your thrusts are matched with a substantial effort of his own.

With some effort, you bend your head low until your mouth is near his shoulder. One precise plunge hits a particularly sensitive part of you.

“Warden!” you cry before instinctively, biting down on his shoulder with the smooth fabric of his bowtie sticking to your hot cheek. With energies combined he is able to continually hammer that sweet spot. You feel the coil of tension knotting in the pit of your abdomen and you clamp down harder. With your hands you are bracing against the bed to keep pace with it all. But your teeth on his flesh keeps you grounded. Even as you fuck yourself into oblivion you can feel the pulse of your man, the heat of his blood. You can taste the sweat, and smell his cologne. As pleasure seems to drag you from reality, this small foothold reminds you it is all real.

The Warden whimpers at the bruising force of your bite but the sound quickly turns into an impious moan. He turns his face to press into the top of your head. There’s the heat of his cheek, and his breath panting into your hair. Every once in a while he grunts a curse, breathy and high-pitched. It all feels so intimate- so comfortable- despite how severely you’re getting pounded.  

It isn’t much longer until you feel his movements become more erratic against yours. He’s close, and if the powerful throbbing you’re feeling is any indication, so are you. The man under you takes a few deep, shuddering breaths before one of his hands leaves your arm where he had been gripping you to anchor your mutual thrusts. His limb noodles down under you where you can’t see it.

In fact, you’ve only just begun to process what’s happening when you feel the fabric of his glove skim your rocking crotch. Understanding his intentions, you slow your pace just slightly, and brace yourself. It is about to be game over for you.

With a few more false starts and only one or two frustrated grunts he manages to match your pace with his hand. His fingers find your clitoris and deliver a hearty pinch. You nearly fold from the feeling and stutter in your movements. The Warden eyes you as smugly as he possibly can and rubs your sensitive nub gently. In return your mouth finds his neck. Groaning into his hot skin you resume your nipping, even if only to get back at him a little. As you bite and cry, his second hand leaves its anchor and explores your body. His fingers stroke your breasts, your soft stomach, and rub your back. You’re nearly braced on your elbows. All his soft touches are overwhelming, sending electric tingles down your spine and scorching flares across your skin. It only takes a few more strokes and the tension in your gut releases.

You slam your body down the haft of his member and bark out his name in a strangled, choking cry as you come. In doing so you’ve sat back as far as you can against his hips, relieving his neck of your teeth and allowing you to hazily look at his face. Though you’ve paused his face breaks into a triumphant grin and his hips jolt against your body just a few seconds more until you feel this cock shudder and release within you. Your partner’s long arms wrap around you, bones be damned. His moan comes out so broken it’s soundless. His back arches off of the bed and his constricting arms crush you into his sternum.  The two of you hang nearly frozen in a near suspension of pleasure that has seized your collective being. Only when the ripples of rapture gradually fade do the two of you slump into a slick, heaving pile.

You ride the orgasm for a moment longer, rocking your hips ever so gently, before you gracelessly slide off of him and flop onto the sheets to catch your breath. Both of you are silent as you reign in your heaving breathing and wait for the blissful, cottony feeling in your head to subside. As you come to your senses again you become more aware of the mild throbbing between your legs as the orgasm reaches its end.

With a quiet sigh you realize in the throes of passion neither you nor your partner had set anything out for cleanup. It was late evening by now, and normally you’d be fine just sleeping in your mess. But, The Warden always kept his personal spaces spotlessly clean. It sucks that your first post-coital thought is so undeniably unsexy, but now that the fun’s over you can only think about what The Warden is going to want you to do.

He hasn’t moved much beside you, and all you can hear is his faint breathing. You start to roll out of bed to dash to the bathroom when you feel a feathery touch at your back.

“Just where are you running off to?” he murmurs hoarsely. His voice is subdued with exhaustion but you stop immediately.

“I was going to go clean up. I’m going to get your sheets all dirty,” you tell him plainly. Though, now that lust isn’t overshadowing your inhibitions you feel embarrassed saying it aloud.

He hums and you hear him shuffle in the sheets. His hand grips your arm. His grasp is weak, but you allow yourself to be pulled back down onto the mattress on your back. He presses his forehead against your shoulder.

“No,” the protest is a childish, drawn-out groan, but you can feel his smile pressing into your arm. “ _Stay._ ”

You can hardly argue with that. Wriggling around onto your side to face him you feel a surge of fondness. He’s glistening with perspiration, but his face bares a contented smile. His eyelids droop low and you can tell he’s fighting to keep his them open. In a word, he looks pretty damn satisfied.

Reaching around you grab his narrow waist and pull him into you. He settles his head against your clavicle and you obligingly rest your chin on the top of his head. Moving your hand from his waist to his head you begin to softly stroke his still-warm cheek and soft hair. He sighs at your touch and presses his scrawny legs against yours until he’s entangled them.

After a minute of relaxed quiet he shudders briefly against you. His breath hisses softly and you discern that he’s laughing.

“What’s so funny?” you mumble with a gentle tug at his earlobe.

“So... my, uh. My ass huh?” he wheezes tauntingly before devolving into uncontrolled snickering.

Too tired to feel appropriately ashamed, you simply sigh. “To be perfectly fair I like all of you,” you confess with a lazy pat to his rump.

He just laughs at you again and you wait for his fit to subside. Due to how you’re positioned, you can’t watch his face anymore. Yet as you lay there, continuing in your tender caressing, you feel his body grow continually more relaxed. It doesn’t take long until he’s fallen asleep. You can tell from his even, soft breathing and leisurely pulse.

No less tired that he, you find that sleep is eluding you. Your mind is presently denying you rest. The thrill of the sex is over, and in the calming, quiet dark of The Warden’s bedroom you find yourself in a pensive mood.

The Warden is dangerous. Smiling grimly you recognize that the docile form blissfully nestled against you and the madman that gleefully created the appalling hellscape of Superjail are one in the same. You have known this since the beginning. You have had plenty of chances to stop this short- to guard yourself. But here you are. You’ve slept with him, and every fiber of your being is eagerly awaiting the next encounter already. If he wants, you will do this again.

During your brief but spirited relationship with The Warden you’ve seen aspects of him that you don’t think anyone else on this godforsaken island has bothered to notice. Even as he builds his ludicrous death machines, he seeks validation, affection, and companionship. No matter how often he conceitedly denies it, he wants to be wanted. He needs to be needed.

He may be The Warden of Superjail but you’re the one with the power now. He has entrusted the most fragile parts of himself to you. This night sealed the deal. You could destroy him in an instant.

But you won’t. You can’t, you silently confess as you begin to drift into the peaceful void of unconsciousness. You press your lips to the top of his head. When he sighs in his sleep and it feels as though your heart has skipped a beat you know.

You love him.


End file.
